


Doc and the Huntsman: After the Wedding

by ItsADrizzit, WhiteHaru37



Series: Fairy Tale Tennis Life [3]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Cereal, Climbing on Counters, Embedded Audio, Escalating Quickly, M/M, Mischa Doesn't Understand, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Sequel, Shirtless Nick, soft hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsADrizzit/pseuds/ItsADrizzit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteHaru37/pseuds/WhiteHaru37
Summary: It has been nine days since the wedding of Prince Diego and Prince Dominic. Life has returned to normal around Sascha's Tennis Paradise. However, today a surprise is waiting in the kitchen...





	Doc and the Huntsman: After the Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a follow up to Diego and the Seven-ish Giraffes.
> 
> It was largely inspired by Nick and Stef playing super fun doubles at the Citi Open, complete with shy awkward thigh pats.
> 
> Rating is entirely for swearing.
> 
> Big thanks to ItsADrizzit. for helping to edit and fix these words. You continue to earn that Editor-in-Chief nameplate.

  
Cover art by: [ItsADrizzit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/itsadrizzit)

**Podfic**:  
[MP3 and streaming](https://www.dropbox.com/s/x2xo8y59343fblg/Tennis%20RPF_Doc%20and%20the%20Huntsman.mp3?dl=0) [13.5 MB, 00:34:36]

[M4B](https://www.dropbox.com/s/vuth7baye6v9v6h/Tennis%20RPF_Doc%20and%20the%20Huntsman.m4b?dl=0) [24.8 MB, 00:34:36]

“Why are you always so excited for Sunday practice, Marcelo?” Mischa asked as he walked through the foyer on his way to the kitchen.

It had been a week since the end of the Monte Carlo Masters and nine days since the wedding of Prince Diego and Prince Dominic. The giraffes had all been busy preparing for their next events. Most were headed to Munich later that evening, while the rest were off to the tournament in Estoril. For today, they would have one final joint practice to polish their games.

To that end, Mischa, along with Marcelo and Sascha, were headed to the kitchen to fill up water bottles and pick up appropriate snacks.

“I am always this excited for practice. It is just that Sunday is the only day we start late enough for me to actually be awake.”

“Mischa!” Sascha reached down to flick his older, shorter brother in this head. “Stop being mean to Marcelo. It is not his fault he’s sleepy most days, being old is hard work.”

“Hey! Alex, that hurts more than what Mischa said.”

“Sorry, Marcelo. Where does it hurt? I’ll kiss it and make it feel better. That is a good trade, right?”

“Ugh...it never ends with you two, does it? I would just like one day, one—” Mischa said, shaking his head as he pushed open the dark polished wood door into the kitchen. When he looked inside, he came to an abrupt halt in the doorway.

“Ow! Hey, Mischa, you are supposed to walk _through _doors, not stop in them all of a sudden. I think the top of your head hit me right in the Adam’s apple,” Sascha complained as he rubbed his throat.

Mischa ignored his brother and stepped slowly into the room, his eyes focused on a shirtless Nick Kyrgios leaning against the rose accented granite countertop and holding what appeared to be a mixing bowl and a serving spoon. “Hey...Nicky...what is going on?”

“Oh… hey,” Nick replied, not even bothering to look up. “Not much. I am just enjoying this fuckin’ cereal, man. This shit is great! What’s up with you, Misch? Sasch, do you and Melo ever stop flirting?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response, then shoveled a full serving spoon of cereal from the mixing bowl into his mouth.

“Not much, Nick...?” Mischa still lingered in the doorway, his nose crinkled slightly, and he managed a crooked looking half-smile.

“Nick! I thought we were bros,” Sascha said, his voice mock-offended. “Anyway, we do not flirt _all _the time. Marcelo sleeps a lot.”

“Alex—” Marcelo protested, but Sascha barreled on without regard.

“Also, you were supposed to tell me when you were coming back to visit. I have not played FIFA at all since the last time and I cannot let Bayern down again.”

Sascha smiled towards Nick over Mischa’s head, then shoved past his brother into the kitchen. Mischa stepped forward and to the side to make space for him to walk by and leaned against the counter perpendicular to Nick. Sascha and Marcelo followed, with Sascha leaning against the kitchen island while Marcelo began filling up sports bottles from the refrigerator's water dispenser.

Nick chewed on the end of the serving spoon for a few moments, his eyes shifting between the three.

“Yeah, so… I mean… I didn’t tell you I was coming back because… I actually haven’t left since the wedding.”

“WHAT?!” Both Zverev brothers swiveled their heads around to stare at Nick in disbelief.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” Mischa asked. “How did we not know this?”

“Wait! Is that why we keep running out of cereal?” Sacha asked, an uncharacteristic annoyance creeping into his tone.

“Um...yeah and...probably.” Nick said around another heaping spoonful of cereal. “Why? What’s the problem? The magic cupboard keeps making more, so it’s fine, right? What’re these choco-biscuits called, Traysor?”

“It’s Trésor, Nick, and we don’t have a magic cupboard. I’m the one who has to call the delivery service to bring more. Every. Day,” Sascha’s growing irritation was evident in the tone and rising volume of his voice.

“Yo, for real? With all the lights and panels I just thought it knew when things were out and replaced them. Isn’t that why there’s a list on the door display.” Nick gestured towards the LCD display on the cupboard door with the serving spoon, waving it around with flicks of wrist that made it look like he was trying to cast a spell.

“I make that list,” Sascha said, voice nearly an octave higher than usual now. “Then, I order whatever is almost out every day. It’s not magic at all!” He let out a groan and buried his face into Marcelo’s shoulder.

“Alex, be careful. I’ll spill the sports bottles,” Marcelo gently chided, as he set down the two bottles down on the counter next to the refrigerator. Sascha’s whining was muffled by Marcelo’s shoulder. Marcelo’s large hands stroked Sascha’s chin length locks. Gradually, Sasha’s whining quieted.

“Damn. Yeah, that’s my bad. I mean, I’m not going to stop eating this because it is seriously the best, but, you know, thanks for ordering it every day,” Nick crunched away at the bowl of Trésor for a couple of bites before pausing, “Wait, does that mean your fancy as fuck fridge isn’t magically replacing the almond milk?”

Sascha, who had started to pull back from Marcelo at Nick’s almost apology, let out another wailing groan and reburied his face in Marcelo’s white training top, his voice coming out small and muffled.“...no…”

“I think you broke my brother, Nick,” Mischa teased. “Or, he might just be sneaking in some pre-practice cuddle time.” He pushed off the counter and playfully poked his brother in the ribs.

“Stop it, Mischa! Can’t I just be in my feelings for a minute?” Sascha whipped around and slapped at Mischa’s hand, glaring.

“Sure, if you want to be garbage at practice today.”

“Why is everyone the worst today?” Sascha asked, once again pressing his face into Marcelo’s shoulder.

“I think this is no different than normal, Alex. You and Mischa tease each other every day.”

Sascha pulled himself away from Marcelo in one quick motion, “Not you too, Marcelo. You’re supposed to protect me.”

“What? It is the truth. Right?”

“Definitely normal, Marcelo,” Mischa agreed as he opened the totally non-magical cupboard and rifled around in it, pulling things out and dropping them to the counter as he shoved other things out of his way to dig around in the back. “You haven’t eaten us out of energy gels, have you, Nick?”

“Nah, those things are nasty. I’ve seriously only been eating this Tressor cereal all week.”

“It’s _Trésor_, Nick.” Sascha sighed, his voice still laden with frustration as he over-emphasized the correct pronunciation of the word.

“Treesour?”

“Trésor.”

“Traser?”

“...Trésor…”

“Tre—”

“Nick, you really are going to break my brother if you keep trolling him like that.” Mischa intervened before Sascha’s head exploded or something equally as detrimental to his brother’s health and tennis career. His voice came out as an odd muffled echo as the entirety of his head was thrust into the cupboard in a search for the elusive energy gels.

“Alright, sorry Sasch, I can be kind of an asshole sometimes. This Trésor is some great shit. Forgive me? Hug it out?” Nick set down the mixing bowl, opened his arms, and raised an eyebrow at Sascha.

“Hug it out,” Sascha said. He moved towards Nick, the two each wrapping one arm around each other and patting each other on the back. When they stepped back, Sascha was smiling again. “Thanks, Nick. I needed that.”

“I would have hugged it out too…” Marcelo muttered quietly to himself.

“Seriously though,” Nick asked, picking up the mixing bowl and returning to his cereal feast, “what are the three of you doing in the kitchen at noon? Aren’t you supposed to be practicing?”

“We start late on Sundays. Which I suppose if you’ve only been here a week you would not know,” Mischa responded, as he climbed onto the counter to immerse himself up to the shoulders in the cupboard. "Where the hell are you energy gels?"

“Really? Damn. I’ve been making sure to not wake up until after everyone leaves.” Nick pursed his lips in thought for a moment before diving back into his mixing bowl of cereal.

Sascha watched him, a disappointed look on his face. “You’ve been hiding from me for a whole week?”

“What? Nah. I’ve been hiding from practice.”

Silence permeated the kitchen then, punctuated only by the sharp crunch of Nick chewing away at his bowl of chocolate filled biscuits. Marcelo, for his part, appeared to be in physical pain as he observed Sascha’s disappointment. He gave a gentle tug on Sascha’s shirt sleeve, pulling him over into a one-armed embrace. The whooshing sound of water from the refrigerator dispenser, as Marcelo returned to filling sports bottle, seemed uncomfortably loud.

The silence was finally broken by a loud, “Ah-ha!” as Mischa’s top half emerged from the cupboard with a fistful of metallic magenta pouches raised triumphantly in the air. He closed the cupboard, then pushed a button on the glowing display set into the door before slowly speaking, “Add to list. The good energy gels.”

He turned around, and sat down on the counter, his legs dangling over the side and gave Nick a smirk. “Free lesson for you on how to use that, Nick.”

“Thank you, great professor,” Nick shot back. He gave an overdramatic salute with his serving spoon, then flipped the spoon around and poked the cupboard panel with the handle end. “Yo, add to list. All the Trésor at the store and the good vanilla almond milk.”

He turned towards Mischa. “It’s way better with vanilla almond milk, the two days where all you had was unsweetened were dark times.”

Sascha laughed and shook his head at Nick, while he and Marcelo started to move towards the kitchen exit.

Mischa slid off the counter to follow them, but paused halfway to the door. “Where _have _you been hiding out all week, by the way?”

Nick shrugged and pretended to focus very intently on his bowl of cereal. “Oh...uh...you know... around…”

At the same moment, the kitchen door swung open and a tall, lanky brunette entered, his hair flowing behind him in loose curls.

“Predominantly, within the scope of my knowledge, Nick has been consigning himself to my room or the tape room. Though, he evidently has at least one other hiding place, as I have not been able to locate him in the mornings before practice until this moment,” Stefanos elaborated as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Excuse me, what?” Mischa asked, unable to keep the look of confusion from his face.

“During the hours after dinner, but before I fall asleep, Nick and myself have been engaged in a variety of activities, all of which have taken place in my room or the tape room, for the most part,” Stefanos replied.

“Wait,” Mischa began. His forehead and eyes crinkled as he spoke, “Why would you hang out in the tape room? What kind of activities are worth doing in the tape room?”

Stefanos gave Nick a small, almost shy smile. “I would say that our activities have covered a broad range of categories from experimental to intellectual to physical. It really has been a cornucopia of new experiences over this past week. Would you concur on this, Nick?”

“Oh, we’ve definitely been doing some experimental shit.”

At this, Marcelo pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at Stefanos, and Mischa's jaw dropped open and his eyes widened in horror.

Sascha's face lit up with a smile.“How perfect! A secret love. A little world for just you two. That is wonderful, right Marcelo?” he responded, a dreamy tone in his voice as he gently rested his head on Marcelo’s shoulder.

“I-it sure is great, Alex…” Marcelo responded, his voice hesitant and more than a little bit amused. “But...a question...I sometimes nap in the tape room...is that still safe, Stefan?”

“Oh… god. I hadn’t even thought of _that,_” Mischa said. “Do I have to worry about where I sit now? Alex and Marcelo are bad enough and they mostly keep things confined to their own spaces.”

A loud burst of laughter echoed through the kitchen in response. Nick dropped his mixing bowl to the counter with a loud clatter of glass against the stone countertop as he doubled over, one hand slapping his thigh as his laughter continued.

Stefanos gave him another grin and nodded. “As Nick’s outpouring of mirth suggests, our activities in the tape room have consisted entirely of empirical and observational exploration of adhesion and technique.”

“That does not make me feel better, Stefanos…”

“Oh Mischa, stop worrying about everything and let them be in love,” Sascha chided.

“Ye-yeaah,” Nick added, only just managing to suppress his laughter as he straightened up, “Stef and I aren’t fucking in the tape room. He’s making me watch film so we can play dubs together and then I help take notes on which of his five thousand kinds of tape sticks best to what set up.”

“That is a relief.” Marcelo sighed and relaxed enough to lean his cheek against the top of Sascha’s head.

“Well, it’s… something at least,” Mischa said. His shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Wait, so are you two not…together, then?”

Stefanos tipped his head back and frowned up at the ceiling for a moment, the tip of his index finger tapping against his lips as he pondered his response.

“I would say,” he said, dragging the words out before dropping his gaze back towards Mischa, “that it would be premature to apply any specific categorization to our current association. Though, I would conjecture that, with the amount of physical intimacy that has developed, it is progressing towards your likely intended definition of ‘together.’”

He crossed the kitchen with three strides of his long legs and leaned against the counter beside Nick, his hand sliding easily down to rest against the small of Nick’s back. “Would you care to weigh in on this matter, Nick?”

Nick instinctively shifted in even closer to Stefanos, their bodies now pressed close against one another. “Uh...yeah, sure, okay. So… I guess… we hooked up after the wedding and… just kind of kept hooking up. We’re still hooking up. It’s pretty great. I am totally on board with doing more of it.” He nodded over at Stefanos, then picked up the mixing bowl to continue eating.

“Why does everything escalate so quickly around here?” Mischa asked his fist raised to grind against his forehead as he stared up at the ceiling. “First the princes took a hot second to go from one of them being cursed forever to getting married. Now the two of you are fuck buddies at the drop of a hat?”

Sascha disengaged himself from Marcelo with a sigh and walked over to give his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Love just happens, Mischa. There’s no sense in getting all flustered about it, okay?”

“But why does it happen so quickly around here? It’s just ridiculous.”

Mischa looked to where Nick and Stefanos stood. “How did this even happen?” he asked, gesturing between the two of them.

“Uh. Like I said. We hooked up after the wedding.”

“No, I know that… or… I… have come to accept that, but… _how_?”

Nick raised an eyebrow at him. “Bro… do I honestly have to explain that to you? Like…”

Mischa frantically waved both hands in front of his face.“Oh. No. No no no no. Please don’t. I meant… why? It makes no sense.”

“Yeah, so... It’s like… okay. So… The thing is… Stef smells _amazing_. Plus, his hair is like, the softest thing I have felt in my wholeass life.” Nick let out a contented sigh as he ran his fingertips over Stefanos’s hair.

“Yes,” Stefanos said. “And I was intrigued by the many apparent contradictions between the characteristics I had inferred about Nick’s private self and those characteristics that he portrays throughout the course of putting on his public persona. I identified this as a unique opportunity to observe this phenomena further.” Stefanos paused before gesturing to Nick’s shirtless torso and adding, “Plus, as you may have observed, Nick’s physique is quite pleasing from both a physiological and aesthetic viewpoint.”

“Yup. You heard Stef, I’m his pretty boy science experiment,” Nick tacked on with a grin.

“You two are adorable!” Sascha exclaimed. “Right, Marcelo?”

“_They_ seem to be enjoying the dynamic they have going on, Alex. That is the most important part.”

“This is a terrible idea, you both know that right?” Mischa asked.

“Oh no, yeah. It’s the worst,” Nick agreed and looked over to Stef, “For you, I mean. I’m probably going to ruin you.”

“Wait. You are agreeing with me?” Mischa asked.

“Oh totally.”

“I for one do not,” Stefanos said. “As I said as the wedding, everyone approaches their relationships and intimacy from a variety of points of view across a broad spectrum of human experience, all of which are equally valid. I hold that Nick and I have the potential to have a mutually beneficial association, which seems likely to include some degree of consensual physical contact and emotional connection, but will be an equally legitimate association even if we arrive at a state of aesthetic and sensual appreciation for each other.”

“That was a lot of words...seriously, do you not see how this is a bad idea?” Mischa once again posed the question, but this time it was directed towards Stefanos only.

“Mischa, just let the love grow, you heard them, they are happy right now,” Sascha interjected.

Stefanos shook his head. “First, only by venturing forth on this journey together will Nick and I be able to come to any type of evaluation as to the positive or negative outcomes resultant of our association. Second, I would shy away from using such a loaded, ambiguous term as love. I assert that it is a term that tends to possess an intensely personal meaning which often cannot be generalized to others, or the world as a whole.”

“Right, what Doc said—”

“Doc?”

“Yeah, because I think you’re super smart and everyone treats you like their trainer, just thought I’d try it out. Don’t like it?”

“Hmmm…I do not think I have had sufficient time to make an accurate determination. You may continue its use until such a time when I am able to reach a determination.”

“Oh my god. The two of you are—”

“So, cute!” Sascha cut off Mischa as he clapped his hands together in excitement.

“I was going to say embarrassing, actually,” Mischa retorted, and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I think they remind me of Alex and I after we first met, well...a little bit at least,” Marcelo commented.

“And the two of you were super embarrassing too!”

“Maybe you all should go practice before we end up ruining Misch.”

“Yes, plus if we do not go soon, I am going to need a nap,” Marcelo added as he picked up the sports bottles and headed towards the kitchen door. Sascha followed him calling back over his shoulder, “Come on Mischa, Stef. We have to go!”

“Yeah, yeah alright. What even is anything anymore? I mean…” Mischa’s voice trailed off as he exited the kitchen.

“Come along Nick, let us go,” Stefanos said as he gently pressed forward on Nick’s back.

“Wait, what? Go where?”

“We are several minutes beyond our standard, mutually agreed-upon time to begin our daily practice.”

“Practice? Nah. I got cereal to finish and slacking to do. I can’t go to practice.”

“I calculate that at your average rate of consumption, you will finish your cereal on the walk out to the courts. So, do not let that concern you,” Stefanos replied as he continued to guide Nick towards the kitchen door.

“Uh...but I don’t have a shirt. Nah who am I kidding, I don’t need a shirt,” Nick moved a couple of steps closer to the kitchen door at Stefanos’s urging, “Wait, hold up hold up. I got it! I just need to run upstairs and find my shoes and a racket. Yeah! You just go ahead and I’ll catch up.”

Stefanos chuckled softly. “I anticipated an occurrence similar to this and preemptively placed your shoes and gear into one of the lockers outside of our practice courts.”

“Man, that’s super thoughtfu— I mean damn, what are you trying to do to me, Stef?” Nick half-heartedly protested.

“I would find it a pleasant extra incentive to enjoy observing your form as it moves through drills,” Stefanos cajoled and then shook his head, which caused his shoulder length locks to brush against Nick’s cheek, “I conjecture that you would be able to stand adjacent to me during breaks and other similar moments of downtime.”

“Uuugghhh...why do you smell so good? Dammit! Fine! I’ll go.” Nick slumped and shoveled a conciliatory spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Stefanos smiled at Nick and leaned in closer, turning his head slightly to let the ends of his hair brush across Nick’s ear and neck, which elicited a brief protest of, “This is not fair…”

“Now, if we can just get you eating a healthier diet...”

“Nuh-uh do not come for my Trésor, Doc. Besides it’s healthy, this is almond milk and the box says enriched!”

“Hmmm, I wonder about that,” Stefanos pondered as he stepped around in front of Nick and brushed his hair back from his face, sending an aroma that Nick had previously described as flowers, sunshine, and happiness towards Nick.”

“Fuck! Why do you always smell amazing?” Nick paused with the serving spoon halfway to his mouth. “Okay, maybe we can talk about later, but I am finishing this bowl.”

“Your willingness to consider is the only request I have.”

“Yeah, okay. Damn bro, I was wrong. You’re gonna be the one who ruins me.”

Stefanos took a step back towards Nick and wrapped a hand around the arm holding the mixing bowl of cereal. He graced Nick with a thoughtful, playful smile, “I would dare to hypothesize that neither of us will ruin the other and that, in reality, we will share an abundance of pleasant moments of one kind or another.”

“Yeah, that would be nice. Let’s go with that, Stef,” Nick replied with a smile that lacked its typical cynicism. “Now, do that thing again where you fluff your hair and make it smell like childhood memories of summer vacation.”

“Should I? I believe I may withhold that for the moment as a means to motivate you to more fully engage with practice.”

“You’re gonna bribe me to practice harder with how good you smell?”

“Essentially.”

“Damn. You are totally going to win on that one.”

The two shared a laugh as they exited kitchen. Tennis, cereal, amazing smells, and who knew what else awaited them down this road.


End file.
